


Fascination Street

by jackasscrew



Category: Placebo (UK Band)
Genre: 90s them :), M/M, No band AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, hehe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:35:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28747782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackasscrew/pseuds/jackasscrew
Summary: After literally crashing into each others lives, Stefan helps Brian overcome his break-up with his shitty ex and along the way accidentally ruins his one night stand streak.*continuous fic, shall be updating :)*
Relationships: Brian Molko/Stefan Olsdal
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. One

London, 1996.

“Stef you’re closing up tonight, yeah?” Stefan glanced up from his third round of idly drying pint glasses. “Um yeah sure. No problem.” Whatever. Thursdays at the bar were quiet anyway, just the sectioned off regulars and the lost tourists trying to make their stay in London worthwhile. Lock up was 3am, he could deal with an extra hour onto his shift. It’s not like he had plans tomorrow except the early afternoon game show reruns.

“Last orders!”

Half an hour to go, the crowd had diminished to three, other bar staff having already made a run for it. Wiping back and forth the bar top even though the stickiness never quite goes away, Stefan sighed deeply. This was all becoming too repetitive. 6pm till 2am Wednesday to Sunday, same shit different day. He thought the move to London would inspire him, starving artists didn’t congregate here for no reason. Yet here Stefan was with a sad smile and a “See you tomorrow chief” to another one of the constants in his life while navigating him through the front door.

Lights off, doors locked and a walk home ahead. An evening of disgruntling normality had rang through Stefan’s head until a bright idea of fuck it came into play. Try your chances at a new route, it wouldn’t kill you. He never walked home this way, the vibrant club life meant rowdy British blokes would roam these streets looking for a target for their drunken display of masculinity. Head down, fast pace. The cobblestones will have to do for todays desire of a change of scenery.

The walk home always gave him time to be at one with his thoughts. His mother had called a couple days ago screaming something fierce about a cousin of his eloping with some guy her parents disapproved of, described him as a lovesick puppy with no career aspirations or a penny to his name. Says they have big plans for Germany, no doubt his aunt will drag her home by the ear first chance she gets.

Of course, marriage talk came the topic of love and “Oh Stefan? You would tell me if you’ve settled down with a girl over there wouldn’t you? No girlfriend on the horizon?” Yes, his mother knew of his sexuality but in her denial labelled it as a side affect of teenagers being easy influenced. “This is all because of that Bowie guy isn’t it.” She said. “You’ll grow out of it when you’re older.” She said.

Its half the reason he left Sweden. That and the fact his mother would have most likely set him up on dates until he got married out of guilt for being the family disappointment and finally gave her what she wanted, a grandchild. That would’ve made her happy. The thought of family left a bitter taste in his mouth.

A faster pace now, the muttering became incoherent even to himself. His brain was working a mile a minute, fuelling this pent-up anger into every footstep on Victorian ground.

And then it all came crashing down.

“Ouch, what the FUCK? Watch where you’re going next time.”

Stefan looked up to the scene. Before him stood a car crash in ripped tights. Mascara had ran down their face from what looked like a sob session, the straps of their babydoll dress slipping off both shoulders, scuffed Dr Martens half toed on a cigarette. Despite all this they were… breath-takingly beautiful, as Stefan would describe in the ‘cracked porcelain doll or angel banished from heaven’ type of way. The look was all overwhelming sinful. But most important to note was the scarlet blood dripping from their nose pooling at the top lip. The tension in the air making Stefan freeze like a dear in headlights.

“Y-You’re... you’re.” Stefan began stumbling.

“I’m what huh? A man in a dress? You wanna go round two on our little collision or something?”

This sharp tongue made Stefan take a step back, the last thing he needed tonight was a trip to A&E. “No. You’re bleeding... your nose its…” The man in front of him took a swish wipe of the back of his hand to his face. This sudden movement meant Stefan’s eyes tuned into the collection of bruises that laced this shorter man’s arms. Angry scar and track marks that littered amongst were visible without a care in the world. 

“Oh for fucks sake so I am, well that’s just great. Fantastic even.” He stared at the back of his hand, a snarl put in place as he watched the blood run down to his fingertips with fascination. It was dripping and yet he just let it, the pavement below will wash it out in the rain later. 

Stefan was stunned, his saviour complex rearing its nosey little head. “Shit, sorry about that, was uh trying to get home, wasn’t thinking straight. But uh… are you okay? Do you need any help?” Raising his hands as if trying to calm a stray animal.

“Do I look okay to you?!” No, I guess not. I guess being positively tear stricken and bloody would be an anomaly of sorts. Even on a good day. “How could you help anyway?”

A thought. “Well, I live down the street, could call you a taxi from there. I would pay for it of course y’know my way of apology. Get you home safe.”

“psh if I even have a home anymore.” The guy said under his breath, so quiet it wouldn’t have been audible to Stefan if the street wasn’t so deathly silent.

A pause. They made eye contact for the first time, each trying to detect any sense of danger in one another. Taking a complete stranger back to your flat calls for speculation, if he woke up tomorrow tied to a radiator with his trousers down and his place ransacked then its nobodies’ fault but his own for falling for this visual sob story. He wouldn’t be surprised, life loves to fuck him over in unique ways.

The shorter cleared his throat. “And how do I know you’re not a murderer huh? This is the birthplace of Jack the Ripper after all.” Stefan couldn’t help but roll his eyes, a smile threatened to escape his lips at the thought.

“Oh please, that would be way too cliché. A Swedish recluse picking up victims between his workplace and home, they would sentence me without any evidence. I’m more worried about you, have you seen yourself lately?” This earned him a smirk from the other. He looked himself up and down and, in the process, stepped forward until mere centimetres away.

“Touché… Brian.” Turning on a friendly smile, teeth glistening with the blood he licked off his cherry lipstick. Brian out reached his unstained hand towards him in a handshake of solidarity. The ice cold to the touch press of his palm into Stefan’s felt grounding in such a bizarre turn of events.

“Stefan.”

Brian’s smile grew even wider. “Stefan… StefAN… Stef-an…Hm. Nice name.” He tried his name out for taste, even adding what he calls his seductive tone into the mix as he looked up with a bat of his lashes. The chill that enveloped Stefan’s spine was unmistakable from a mile away. 

He continued. “C’mon, let’s get going then. I’m freezing my tits off out here.” Skipping ahead in the direction Stefan was heading, Brian’s clumsy smirk and 180 mood switch from earlier was contagious as Stefan flashed him a cheeky grin. Looks like he got his change of scenery after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk what the fuck this is or what its gonna end up being but my brain just needed to puke it out. also if anyone knows how to write a story without including names in every sentence hmu. 
> 
> all comments welcome lets have a chat :)


	2. Two

Fumbling with the keys to his flat, Brian watched on with curiosity as he leant against the opposing wall. Stefan wasn’t kidding when he said the lift was out of order, the dizzying four flights of stairs made Brian’s knees turn to jelly. The flickering of the stairwell light hadn’t relaxed him either, the whole ordeal felt like a march to his death.

Turning the key into place with a click, Stefan turned all eyes on Brian with a “Here it is. Dans la maison D’Olsdal.” Opening the door with a swift kick of the foot, Brian pushed himself off the wall and dashed inside until coming into contact with the sofa. After flopping into place, he muttered a soft “Sorry I didn’t think I could stand up any longer” and grinned as his eyes digested all his surroundings.

“Votre maison est agréable, vivez-vous ici par vous-même?” He peered up at Stefan from over the arm rest, Stefan’s eyebrows almost reaching his hairline with that comment.

“Vous parlez français?” Stefan could only stare back; all this focus was now on the 5’6 guy (not a girl remember) that was currently making himself at home amongst his thrifted throw cushions.

With a wink he responded, “I get around” and began unlacing his docs, placing them at the foot of Stefan’s sofa.

Stefan’s brain short circuited as all he could do was stare dumbly in Brian’s direction. Surely he wasn’t about to get propositioned into something, it may have been some time since his last lay but this was all just a friendly gesture, Brian must just have a very overt personality. He spoke up “And to answer your earlier question, no I live here on my own so….yeah…”

“Good to know Stefan.” Dragging out his name with purpose.

At that he was kicked into hyper drive as the situation was finally soaking in. What did he bring him here for again? Oh yeah to call a taxi. That was the deal, right? But he can’t just send him out into the night all bloodied up can he?

“So uh… Brian… I’m gonna go get a wet cloth and some paracetamol so we can clean up that mess I did and then I guess I’ll uh ring you a taxi like I said. That a plan?”

For half a second at the mention of taxi Brian’s smile visibly faltered, shit did Stefan see that? He turned back on the dazzlers as he beamed “Yup, thank you my knight in…” he squinted up at Stefans shirt “…27 Club bar uniform. Cute name for a bar by the way how neat to associate a bar with death.”

“Well, it’s not like I named it.” A quick escape into the kitchen lead to a hastily rummage for literally any clean rag at all. Stupid fucking laundry day. After dampening his ‘I Heart London’ commemorative tea towel bought as an unfunny joke yet sat unused in his pantry, Stefan ran through his bedroom and to his bathrooms medicine cabinet. All this rushing left him lightheaded by the time he got back to Brian.

“Okay look at me, I gotta clean up your nose but if it stings just tell me to stop, yeah?” His hand was placed onto his shoulder, this sincere approach feeling foreign to Brian.

“Sure, have at it big guy.”

He crouched down in front of the sofa as Brian swung his legs back to a sitting position leaving them touching knee to knee. As Stefan wiped around the area with a gentle touch Brian couldn’t help but zone in on the way his eyebrows creased together whilst concentrating. It was almost cute, maybe if the circumstances were different. Even a few times Stefan’s tongue poked out during some of the more caked blood areas that had Brian biting his own tongue for fear of commenting because this guy is helping you out have you no shame?!

Stefans eyes found Brians. “Do you want me to also clean up your mascara tears?” Considerate, such a gentleman Brian thought.

“Actually no. I’m trying out the whole damsel in distress needing a prince to save her look, do you think it’s working?” He bat his sweet little lashes up at him.

“Well, you’re here in my flat aren’t you.”

“Does that make you my sweet prince?”

“Only if you want me to be.” Grinning ear to ear at each other, Brians smile was like sunshine shining through the rain. Stefans thoughts ran away with him as he focused on his deep blue doll like eyes. God he was fucking pretty. They let the moment linger until the bloodied rag started dampening through Stefans trousers.

“Ah, fuck!”

Stefan lept up, scrubbing his hands over the soaked spots as Brian let out giggles at his reaction. Infectious as it was, he once again found himself laughing along as he manoeuvred around the living room towards the cordless on the wall. The energy soon died down as Brian realised who he was dialling and instinctively ran over to push the hang up button.

“What the fuck was that about?” His eyebrows almost into his hairline.

The shorter looked anywhere but up, sure sign of his delayed nervousness to his own reaction coming through. Letting out a deep sigh he started. “You see the thing is I, um- you see the reason I- er. Well, to put it simply I might not have a er- home anymore so… no use calling a taxi aye…”

Confused, the blonde stared on waiting for any decent response to pop into his head.

“So Ill just be getting out your hair then…” Getting up, straightening out his dress and heading straight for the door without even a glance in Stefans direction. As he was unhooking the latch, slender fingers grasped at his wrist all focus now on this point of contact. The hand pulled Brian closer to him with a cautious look.

“Hey, look sorry I just… do you wanna talk about it? I don’t expect you to go patrolling the streets at...” He glanced at the wall clock. “…3am for a place to stay tonight. My sofa comfortable enough for you?”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“Its just for tonight, you don’t have to say yes. Don’t think of this as a pity offer its more me being scared shitless that I wouldn’t be able to sleep if you left.” The offer in Stefans eyes as he gazed into Brians looking for an answer. After a minute or two of some serious debating in Brians mind he finally met him halfway with a “If that’s okay with you.”

Stefans growing smile was cut off with a “but if you wanna hear my story I guess you'll have to wait and find out… over breakfast maybe?”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again! comments welcomed. whatever whatever thanks for reading babes.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wont lie didnt proof read this one. my language use gets worse and worse. they first two chapters were sophisticated now this is just tired and desperate but i needed to write it yknow?
> 
> anyway leave a comment! 
> 
> lesbian rights!

The smell of burning jolted Stefan from his sleep, eyes wide meeting with the daylight pouring through the gap in the curtains. Dashing out of bed and into the kitchen without second thought to a shirt, Stefan found Brian over his stove, dressed in only knickers and a sleep shirt Stefan had lent him, pushing a spatula around the remnants of scrambled egg. He turned around as he heared the clobber of big foot on the kitchen tiles.

“I wanted to do something nice for you but I’ve fucked these eggs right up. I mean who burns eggs???”

“You apparently,” Stefan goes to take a seat at the table “and you didn’t have to do that by the way.”

“Yes but I wanted to thank you, this is the first time I’ve been offered a place to stay out of kindness rather than… ulterior motives.”

“Oh I wouldn’t speak too soon.”

Taken aback, Brian shot Stefan a look as the other just broke into giggles. Very rarely he meets someone so much his type, sarcastic and funny huh? That sure is interesting. As always, Brian laughs along plating the eggs and toast and serving with a side of tea in front of him.

“Bon appétit! Not bad considering your bare cupboards. Mind if I smoke in here?”

“No, go ahead.” As Stefan tucks in he notices the complete lack of food on Brians end of the table and questions “You didn’t make yourself anything?”

Brian sparks up, takes a long drag and answers through his exhale “All the substance I need is right here.” Nodding towards the cigarette he plants a smile on his face telling something mischievous.

They are quiet for a while, just letting the noises of early morning London filter in through the crack in the windows. The city sounds of taxi horns and police sirens, signs of normality and human life is soothing to those who minds race which is Stefan right now. His thoughts running a million miles a minute from what question to ask Brian first or just focusing on how angelic he looked in the morning light. Also soaking in the domesticity of the situation, always leaving before his one-night stands woke up meant he wasn’t accustomed to breakfast small talk. And never has he had another man (try) cook for him that’s for certain.

Staring at the swirling of Brian’s cigarette smoke until down to the butt, Stefan cleared his throat. “So?”

Caught out of his own thoughts, the shorters attention focuses back to Stefan. “So what?”

“So what’s your story you’ve had me on the edge of my seat for?”

“Oh that haha,” He leans forward and squashes the butt into the centre ashtray “so about last night my er- son of a bitch ex boyfriend decides we were over. Just like that. Out of the blue, no run up or anything. Mind you we had been dating for over a fucking year and living together for three quarters of that so I was in shock y’know?”

Stefan doesn’t interrupt, just nods his head to show he’s listening intently to what’s about to come.

“So, I ask why? And he goes on to say something about how he couldn’t date a fuck up junkie whore and blah blah blah. I got sober for him y’know? Haven’t touched the fucking stuff in months so for him to say that was kind of suspicious, no? So the bastard just throws me out no warning saying I can come back for my stuff but have to stay away for the night. Thinks I have friends in high places that would take me in if I come begging on their doormat…”

Brians mouth is running like a tap at this point, spilling all of his post rage into the rant. His knuckles whitening at the pressure against the wood, Stefan is still there listening. This was all Brian needed to just let it all go.

“So I thought fuck it! Ill go drown my sorrows in Heaven so I didn’t have to feel like shit anymore. I don’t know why I thought that would solve everyfuckinthing. One drink in I see couples on the dancefloor, instantly well up, run outside and you know the rest…” He finally lets in a breath as his fists start untangling themselves.

It takes a minute to process all this information until it clicks into place in Stefans mind and with a sign he drops the bomb of “He’s cheating on you.”

Across the table Brian chokes on his tongue at the sheer bluntness and certainty of the statement.

“You’re wrong.”

“Okay hear me out, why else would he drop you out of nowhere?”

“Stefan you’re wro-“

“Clearly the guilt had been eating him up inside. Explains the sudden dumping, explains the absolutely shit druggie excuse. Think about it.”

And he does. He thinks through every last interaction he had with him. How he refused to hold his hand on the tube, blamed it on not wanting to cause a scene. Since when did he give a fuck what people thought of them? He thinks about how he dodged Brians goodbye kiss as he left for work, how he pretended to be asleep when Brian whispered ‘I love you’, how he took the picture of them kissing out of his wallet for fear his co-workers saw. Every little detail backed up with an excuse was all unravelling in his mind. And boy was he furious.

“…….That MOTHERFUCKER. Oh I am going to KILL him when I see him.”

He could feel the rage emitting from Brian’s body, this whole situation was intriguing he must admit. Sure the cheating thing might have been a shot in the dark, a suggestion if you will but now Brians realisation makes him want to pay revenge as much as the other. Maybe try and catch him in the act, there is no doubt in Stefans mind that his ex probably he has someone over right now.

“How about we go pay him a visit, huh? I’m sure you’d love to get your stuff back.”

And with an evil glint from Brian and the chairs squeaking against the floor, they get a move on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck me..... apologies i am british and i do say fuck a lot i am literally forcing my personality onto brian here lmao.
> 
> also anyone else been to heaven (the club) in london? ive only been once but it was literally incredible and i long to go back.
> 
> thanks for reading!


	4. Four

“LET ME FUCKING IN JAMES!”

After a minute of knocking, he had turned to straight up try and kick down the door. His docs breaking through the hard wood almost making him twist his ankle in the process. Stefan stood behind to watch it all unfold, tagged along for moral support but also in case he needed to beat the shit out of someone. As ferocious as Brians temper was, who knew if this guy ended up being a whole foot taller than him or having 100 pounds to outweigh Brians little figure. He didn’t want to see himself as a bodyguard of such but if the time came he wouldn’t hesitate to throw some fists in his defence.

“ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT IM COMING.” Came from behind the wood and with an unlock of the door a “Do you want the fucking police round here Brian!?”

“I couldn’t give two fucks! Move.” As Brian pushed him and the door well out the way to get into the flat, Stefan had no choice but to follow trailing him like a little puppy and giving James the side eye as he stomped past.

“And who the fuck is he?”

“Non of your fucking business that’s who.”

He rolled his eyes and slammed the front door behind him as he came face to face for a showdown in the living room. James kept track of the tall stranger as the other seemed to stare into his soul. If looks could kill huh. Meanwhile attempting to gather up his belongings, Brian headed towards the bedroom for his suitcase and was violently stopped halfway by James pushing him towards the sofa.

“Don’t you go in there!”

“Oh don’t worry I know all about your fucking side piece and you have the nerve to call me a whore! I wasn’t that one sleeping behind your back now was I! Let me fucking through!”

As James protested once again, Stefan came to grab at him before he could lay another finger on Brian. Opening the bedroom door felt like he had been shot. Part of him wanted it to all be a lie, that he got the wrong end of the stick, wanted the denial to envelop him in its warm embrace. But no. This wasn’t the case for the deer in the headlights eyes of some guy struggling to get one leg into his jeans so he could jet out of there. A strike of recognition and oh my god he was sleeping with his fucking boss. No wonder he got promoted. And when even was that like 5 months ago? Brian felt sick to his stomach that he couldn’t help the laugh the erupted up.

“I see now. You’ve been fucking your way up the ladder huh?” He turns his head to look James straight in the eye. “This the reason you’ve been coming home late? Giving blowies under the bosses desk so he can tell you what a good employee you are? Well I hope you two enjoy each other! And when the day comes James when he drops you for other fresh office meat I hope it breaks your heart and that the sad sack of shit that you are makes you end up killing yourself. Just. Like. You. Deserve.”

A deafening silence fills the room as James hangs his head in shame. Stefan can only look on to Brian and think wow. He thinks he’s just fallen in love a little bit. After the statement hangs heavy in the air and a “you can get the fuck out” aimed at James’ boss, Brian gets to work fishing his suitcase out the wardrobe and starts recklessly throwing his entire life in, his journals and photo albums the only things being of sentimental worth. The blonde starts picking up in his footsteps, fetching bin bags for the larger items and making sure that they get out of there as fast as they can. Brian doesn’t stop to look at him, too caught up in his own thoughts to care about Stefans reaction. It’s incredible how everything you own is only a 10 minute job. Thank God his name isn’t on the lease.

When he visibly slows down Stefan glances up from the case to see Brian taking in his surroundings for the last time. Deep breath in, deep breath out and the bedroom door slamming behind them. James was crumbling on the coach, face in his hands, ears red with embarrassment. Passing all the bags to Stefan, Brian straightens up his form to get his attention and James stands up to for an eye to eye, man to man send off.

“There was one last thing I wanted to say to you,”

And with that, his fist comes swinging to hit James square in the nose. The crunch of the bone under his knuckles and the skin splitting open with a bloody burst. Such a surprise had him knocked off his feet and falling flat into the coffee table, smashing the glass into a million pieces with the force of his body contact.

“Oh FUCK!”

Grabbing onto Stefans sleeve they dashed out of the flat before he could tell how much damage he’d done, he could die like that for all he cared.

All the while fleeing the scene of the crime both of them couldn’t contain the smiles and laughs that left them. No way did that happen, shit like that only happens in movies. Onto the street they hailed the first cab they saw, both bumbling into the back settling knee to knee again as he rambled off his address. Something had shifted, a bond had been formed and there was no letting go now. Stefan could only grin in his direction as he thought about how his life had dramatically changed overnight. Brian mirrored him and giggled, adrenaline still running high.

“You’re incredible Brian, you know that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brian in this chapter: Dear Lord, what a sad little life, Jane. You ruined my night, completely, so you could have the money, but I hope now you spend it on getting some lessons in grace and decorum because you have all the grace of a reversing dump truck without any tyres on.
> 
> also tag how many times ive ACCIDENTALLY said or almost said a song name in this theres  
> my sweet prince, a million (little) pieces and a heavily implied scene of the crime i gotta get out more


End file.
